And therefore is wing'd Cupid painted blind
by yminnie
Summary: Rogue Cheney – Quiet, invisible, sad.. Loner. Sting Eucliffe – Class clown, energetic, happy.. Popular. This is a Stingue short fan fiction. There is a tiny bit of Sticy, but only for the sake of the story, the main pairing is Stingue.
1. Annoyances & Classrooms

**(Disclaimer – I do not own Fairy Tail or the characters Sting Eucliffe, Rogue Cheney and Lucy Heartfilia, I do however own their personalities and the plot of this story.)**

 **Age 10**

 _Rogue Cheney has always been somewhat of a loner. He prefers it that way; to not be distracted by the other people around him. He likes to keep to himself; his thoughts are the only thing he needs to keep himself company, well and the fact that no one really seems to take much notice of him. It's a constant daily struggle to make sure he keeps out of the other kid's way, all of them too focused on themselves to notice that he's there, even after they bump in to him. He's not much of a talker, he always thought if he had a friend, just one, he would be an excellent listener, keen to maybe even hand out some advice if necessary. Unfortunately he's never been given the chance._

 _Sting Eucliffe, not the most popular guy in the crowd but everybody knows his name. Perhaps the jokester is a better way of describing him. Always eager to make someone laugh, to make someone pay attention to him. He likes to see people smile. So energetic and full of life, his cocky persona suits him well. He's the complete polar opposite of Rogue; it's no wonder Sting's never given him a second glance._

~~.~~

Something about the day felt different to Rogue. He couldn't explain the feeling; it was just that, a feeling. As if some event might happen that could change the course he is currently on. He wanders through his day hugging the wall so he doesn't get tripped; his backpack held close to him so it doesn't get zipped open for the amusement of his peers. He'd had woken up this morning more hopeful than he usually did. A feeling had hung in the air around him, something he wasn't entirely sure of. But now half way through the long school day he was growing tired, that feeling he had when he'd first work up, the feeling that followed him around up until now was quickly dissipating, leaving Rogue feeling weary.

The last period of the day always seems to drag by; Rogue was never very interested in history. Most students were rowdy and it took all the self-restraint the teachers had to not smack the kids and make them sit in their seats, instead opting for a less physical approach by evenly threatening the students with detention after school if they continued to misbehave. Rogue sits in the second row from the back in the chair against the wall just like he usually does. No one sat in the chair next to him, scared of being called a loser for being associated with him. He didn't really mind, for Rogue this meant there were no distractions and he could pass the time counting the minutes left on the clock until he could go home.

Half way through class he feels something lightly hit his back between his shoulder blades. The object is ignored, thinking that it was just a mistake made by one of the students behind him. He goes back to the sketch he was focusing on in front of him. A minute later there's a finger tapping on his left shoulder, and for a second shocked at someone noticing him Rogue tenses up, his eyes bulging slightly as he sits rigid. A second later he remembers someone had thrown something at his back and thinks that the person is going to ask if he can pick it up and hand it to the person's friend. He shrugs his left shoulder slightly trying to shake the hand off but the person is insistent.

"Hey short fry," the guy whispers quietly, still tapping lightly on Rogue's shoulder.

A small battle takes place within Rogue's head, part of him demanding he turn around, the other part telling him that it's a prank being played on him and to just continue with his drawing. Rogue's insecurities win out and he doesn't turn around.

"Are you ignoring me?" The voice whispers again, a slight chuckle in his voice.

Against everything in Rogue telling him to continue ignoring it, he slowly turns his head to face the annoyance behind him. He immediately sees none other than blonde haired Sting Eucliffe practically lying on his desk looking right at Rogue with a grin plastered on his face. Rogue immediately ducks his head letting his long fringe fall over his face as he blushes at the attention. Why is Sting Eucliffe talking to him of all people?

"Hey, are you new here?" Sting whispers again, and everything in Rogue drops. Why had he been expecting anything else?

Rogue looks up again slowly, his cheeks still slightly pink. "Wh- What?"

Sting doesn't seem fazed. "I don't think I've seen you around before. Is today your first day?"

Rogue shouldn't be surprised that Sting had never seen him before, why would someone like him pay Rogue a second thought? He's invisible after all.

"N-No." Rogue manages to stutter out.

Sting's forehead scrunches up slightly as he tries to remember invisible Rogue. He opens his mouth to reply when the teacher interrupts.

"Can you two be quite back there! If you hadn't noticed I'm trying to teach a class. Now either listen or spend your afternoon in detention."

Rogue quickly turns back to the front of class and sinks into his seat. Sting stays in his position for a few more seconds silently challenging the teacher before falling back with a thud against his chair, tapping his pen against the table, impatiently waiting for the last few minutes of class to go by. This guy intrigues him.

~~.~~

Rogue silently walks down the school corridor; he was quick to get out of the class so he didn't embarrass himself in front of Sting again. He's almost at his locker when he once again feels someone tapping on his shoulder, caught off guard he stumbles over his own feet. The hand clamps down on his shoulder firmly, keeping him from falling.

"Did I frighten you?" Sting's amused voice sounds in Rogue's ear.

He stands up quickly, Sting's hand falls off of his shoulder, once again grinning at him. Rogue continues to stare.

"You don't talk very much do you?" he asks casually leaning himself against the row of lockers.

"I ah-. Uh, no." Rogue manages to get out, hanging his head to avoid embarrassment. Something he seemed to find himself doing a lot of today.

Sting's leaning right on Rogue's locker and he wasn't sure how to go about politely asking him to move.

"Huh. Well what's your name not-so-new kid?" he asks curiously.

"Uh, Rogue Cheney." He says, surprised that Sting was actually interested in talking to him.

Sting studies him for a minute; his eyes roam over Rogue's face before looking at the rest of him. With a huge grin spread across his face, Sting sticks his hand out between them. Rogue extends his hand slowly; still half convinced that Sting is playing a prank on him. Their hands connect and his doubts slowly melt away as Sting's hand grips his tightly.

"Well Rogue Cheney, I'm Sting Eucliffe. Nice to meet you."


	2. Homework & Tea Cups

**Age 12**

"Roguuuueeeee." Sting shouts from the living room. He rolls his eyes, continuing to make the tea that Sting had demanded only minutes earlier.

He picks up the two steaming mugs and goes to join Sting. He places a mug down on the table next to Sting's sprawled out form. "What's wrong?"

Sting let's out an exasperated sigh, "I just don't get all these formulas. How do they expect us to remember everything? It's too hard!" He yells up to the ceiling. Rogue can only stare.

"I showed you this earlier Sting," he places his cup down, moving closer to where Sting is lying on his back. "Come here and I'll show you again."

Sting flips over to his stomach now very close to Rogue, a huge grin plastered on his face. "Thanks Rogue, you're the best, you know that?"

Rogue pushes Sting's face away from him, "Yeah, yeah I know." Rogue looks over the work Sting had done and frowns; the page is filled with tiny badly drawn sketches. "You really shouldn't try drawing, Sting." Turning his head to look at Sting he laughs at his angry expression.

Sting grabs the book out from under Rogue yelling, "Well Mr Artist if you don't like them then don't look at them."

Rogue gets on his knees making his way over to where Sting moved to, "Oh come on Sting, you know I was only kidding. I love your drawings."

"And why is it that I don't believe you?" Sting pouts, Rogue stops.

"Well you're just going to have to trust me, aren't you?" Rogue says chuckling; he loves when Sting pouts like that. "Come on, get over here."

Sting refuses to move, holing the notebook securely to his chest.

"If you don't come over here then I'm coming over there," Rogue states, again making his way over to Sting.

Sting holds his ground, pretending to ignore Rogue. After a minute he gives in averting his eyes to find Rogue staring intensely at him, a dark glint in his crimson eyes. Sting opens his mouth to make a snide remark when suddenly he's knocked onto his back, the notebook pulled out of his hands and chucked away. Rogue's fingers are on his stomach straight away tickling him into submission. Sting resists for a while not willing to give Rogue the satisfaction, until tears are streaming out of his eyes and he can't help but scream, "Rogue stop! I give in."

Rogue leans back on his heels, a satisfied smirk on his face, "so that homework then?"

Sting lets out a huff; he doesn't like to be caught off guard like that.

Rogue's smirk fades as he looks at Sting, "You know you're my best friend, right Sting?"

Sting gives him a disappointed look, "Why do you even have to ask that?"

Rogue's smile tugs at the corners of his mouth, becoming wider, "No reason. We'll be friends forever right?"

At this Sting stands up and walks over to Rogue. He looks down at him wondering where this suddenly came from. He ruffles Rogue's dark hair before leaning down so they are eye to eye, "You're so weird, Roguie. Of course we'll be best friends forever."


	3. Movies & Spooning

**(So due to chapter two being so short, I decided to post another one. Also leave a comment telling me if you're enjoying my little Stingue drabbles, so then I'll know if they're any good or not. I'd hate to have you all talking behind my back about how crappy you think there are.)**

 **Age 14**

Sting has something about him.

"You'd look so much better with this off your face," Sting says as he lifts the chunk of hair that covers Rogue's right eye and secures it on top of his head with a clip. "There you go. You have such a pretty face Rogue; you need to show it off more."

Rogue can only sit there dumbfounded as Sting walks away. 

~~.~~ 

"Which movie? The Cabin in the Woods or My Bloody Valentine?" Sting asks, kneeling beside the pile of DVDs on his floor, holding up the two discs for Rogue to see.

Rogue hates horror movies, Sting knows this.

"Well what are they about?" He asks, getting off Sting's bed to go look at the DVD cases.

Sting grabs them holding them out of Rogue's reach. "Nah ah, you just say which one you want to watch and then you'll find out as you watch it. That's the fun part." He's grinning, he enjoys torturing Rogue.

"Come on, Sting," Rogue pleads with him.

Sting shakes his head, "Not just pick one.

Rogue lets out a huff, "fine." He closes his eyes, pointing to the one he hopes will be the less gruesome of the two.

"Cabin in the woods it is!" Sting shouts, getting up to put it in the DVD player. 

~~.~~ 

Rogue hears the credits rolling as he's curled into Sting's side terrified of watching what had just been playing on the screen. Sting doesn't make a move to get up, instead content in just sitting there with Rogue.

"You know Rogue, the movie wasn't even that bad," he says looking down at Rogue waiting for him to look up at him.

"Are you kidding me?" Rogue muffles into his side, the vibration makes Sting shiver. He chuckles, finding a certain pleasure in Rogue's discomfort. "Why would you put me through that? You know I hate scary movies."

"Because you're my best friend. That's part of the job, if I didn't make you face the things that you hate then who would? This was for your own good, trust me." Sting's grinning when Rogue lifts his head to look at him.

"You can be a real dick sometimes, you know that?" Rogue says unimpressed, pushing away from Sting slightly.

That smug look never leaves Sting's face. "You're the one who picked it."

Rogue opens his mouth, shocked. "Neither choice would have been good. For my sake you could have picked a drama or something."

"Pfft, how boring. Well if I picked a drama I wouldn't have had the pleasure of you practically spooning into my side."

At that Rogue pushes himself away from Sting completely, disentangling their legs.

"Like I said, you're such a dick," Rogue's unimpressed.

"Come on, Roguie." Sting tries, as he moves closer to him. Rogue moves himself further on the mattress.

Without realising it Rogue had moved himself right to the edge of the bed and as Sting makes one more move forward Rogue moves back again, tumbling off of the bed and straight onto the floor.

He lays there rubbing his elbow, "Dammit Sting, look what you just made me do."

Sting peers over the edge of the bed, trying to hold back his laughter. "I didn't tell you to move away." When Rogue just sits there unwilling to look at Sting he sighs, "Let's watch another one then," he shoots him a glare, causing Sting to put his hands up in defense. "Don't worry you can pick from any of the movies."

Rogue gets up, slowly walking over to the pile of DVDs, looking at the titles. He pulls one out and puts it in, before walking back to the bed where Sting sits leaning against the headboard, waiting patiently.

"You better of picked a good one," he teases as Rogue sits down next to him.

Rogue shifts every so often, attempting to get comfortable. The jostling of the bed not going unnoticed by Sting. After twenty minutes of the movement he lifts his arm up, "Come here." Rogue looks confused for a second before lying down into the same position he was in for the previous movie. Sting puts his arm around his shoulder, slowly stroking Rogue's arm.

Rogue cuddles comfortably into Stings side, hiding his face into Sting's stomach in an attempt to hide his growing blush now, instead of fearing what he would see on the TV screen. He stops listening to the movie, instead tuning into the rise and fall of Sting's body as he breaths. The feel of Sting's hand moving softly over Rogue's exposed arm sends shivers through Rogue's body. He starts thinking that maybe just maybe Sting was feeling the same way he was and they could stay like this forever.


	4. Alcohol & Kissing

**Age 16**

Rogue lies contently on Sting's bed, a vinyl record cover in his hands as he sings along softly to the music that fills the room.

"Quick tell me which colour." Sting yells as soon as he flings the door open to his room. He stands there in tight black jeans and no shirt, a strained look on his face as he stares at Rogue, urging him to make a decision for him. "Quickly, grey or white?"

Rogue rolls onto his side slowly, placing the vinyl in front of him on the bed. "Well, what look are you going for?" he says, feigning interest.

Sting looks at him, hoping that the look on his face is enough to convey to Rogue just how stupid that question is.

Rogue remains silent.

Sting sighs, "I'm just trying to look good okay."

Rogue rolls onto his back again, not caring about what Sting wears because quite frankly he looks amazing in anything.

Sting walks over to the bed, still holding the two shirts in his hands, "Please just pick one, I value your opinion." He's giving him puppy dog eyes now, dear lord.

"The grey one, the colour looks good on you." Rogue answers, giving Sting an 'are you satisfied now?' look.

A grin spreads across Sting's face as he leaps up throwing the white shirt on the floor and pulling the grey one over his head. "Thanks Roguie, you're the best."

"Don't call me that," Rogue mumbles, pretending to read the vinyl cover to hide his reddening cheeks.

"Come on, go fix your hair and then we'll leave," Sting says, shoving Rogue off the bed and into his en suite.

~~.~~

The house is a mess. There's people lying on the couches, empty bottles and half-filled cups litter the floor, the tables and the cabinets. Rogue stands in the front doorway with Sting feeling immediately uncomfortable. He grabs Sting's arm gently, whispering to him.

"Are you sure we should be here? It looks a little out of control."

Sting looks down slightly, giving Rogue a small reassuring smile before grabbing his hand with his own, pulling him into the crowded lounge room. "It will be fun, I promise."

~~.~~

Rogue finds himself some time later sitting on a stool in the kitchen, a bottle of beer balancing in his lap; and not entirely sure how he ended up there. He looks slowly around the room his head spinning slightly from the movement; he needs to find Sting. He stands up quickly, too quickly forcing him to grab the bench for support as he stumbles. He makes his way out of the sea of people in the kitchen, only to be met with another sea when he enters the lounge room. People bump into him with not so much as a sorry as he stands in the doorway. He moves into the room, his eyes moving frantically hoping to catch a glimpse of Sting's unruly blonde hair. After a few moments of searching this room Rogue turns around ready to continue his search in one of the many other rooms when he spots him.

Sting stands near the wall, he's talking to someone, from where Rogue stands it looks to be a girl only slightly shorter than sting with the same shade of blonde hair. She's standing with her back against the wall as Sting leans towards her, he must have said something because the girl laughs as a slight shade of pink spreads across her cheeks. Rogue stands rooted to the spot not able to turn away from them. Sting suddenly dips his head, catching the girl's lips in a kiss. Rogue quickly whips his head away not wanting to see anymore; just as he takes an unsteady step away from the two he hears his name.

"Rogue!"

Rogue looks back in their direction slowly, only to see Sting waving at him over the crowd with the girl hugged up against his side. Rogue reluctantly makes his way over to them.

"There you are, I've been looking everywhere for you." Sting slurs slightly, pulling Rogue into a hug which turned out awkwardly as the girl is still pressed against him.

"Yeah I can see that," Rogue murmurs, not caring about sounding rude.

Sting grins at him, "Well, I guess I did get a little side tracked." The girl stares up at Sting giggling.

Rogue eyes shift between them, his mouth clenched shut as bile rises in his throat. "I think I'm just going to go home."

"What! Why? The night is still young." Sting says shocked.

Rogue stares down at his watch. "Well actually it's two in the morning, so I'm going to go home to bed. I'll just see you back there, okay?" He turns, heading for the front door, not waiting for Sting to answer him.

Sting stands there for a moment watching his best friend disappear through the crowd, Lucy is still attached to his side and he smiles down at her. "I'm sorry, but I think I better go as well." He detaches her from him and begins to follow Rogue, he turns around quickly to shout back, "I'll call you tomorrow." Before running to catch up with his friend.

Sting exits the house as quickly as he can, squeezing past the other drunken people blocking the door. He hits the street in a run, hoping that Rogue hasn't wondered off too far. It's not long before he spots him, hands in his pockets and head down low as he walks the dark street to Sting's house all alone. With a huge grin on his face Sting picks up his running pace getting right behind Rouge and wrapping his hands around his eyes.

"Guess who." He yells in delight, as Rogue stumbles slightly to the side in fright. The only reason they both don't fall onto the pavement is because Sting somehow manages to keep both of my balanced.

Rogue removes Sting's hands from his eyes, looking at him. "What are you doing?"

Sting pouts at Rogue, "you didn't guess."

Rogue isn't in the mood to humor drunken Sting as the moment, so he stares.

"What kind of friend would I be if I let you walk home alone in the dark? With a face like yours I'm sure someone would try to steal you." Sting replies slightly annoyed at Rouge's seriousness, but still links his arm through Rogue's so they can continue walking. "And also the small detail of you staying at my house and you don't have a key to get in."

Damn, Rogue had forgotten about that.

"Now I have you all to myself tonight, no one else will get their hands on you."

Rogue can't even manage a small smile at Stings words, the image of him kissing that girl still fresh in his mind. All he can do is hold onto Sting's arm tighter and pray that he never has to let go.


	5. Cafes & Solitaire

**If you think the story is skipping forward too much, and there is not enough development, remember that every chapter skips forward two years and that a lot of things would have happened during that time.**

 **Enjoy.**

 **Age 18**

"Rogue, is everything alright?" Sting asks out of the blue.

Rogue stares at him from across the table, sees how his arm is slung casually around Lucy's shoulders, after two years a slight blush still crosses her cheeks when Sting is around. You would think that she would be used to him showering her affection by now. Rogue hates her. Actually he wishes it were as simple as that, he would love for her to be a horrible person so his hatred could be justified, but he isn't that lucky. In fact Lucy is a wonderful girl, she's kind to Rogue, always eager to help him with his problems, she's a happy person, always trying to get Rogue to smile more; she likes his smile. But she loves Sting, which is where Rouge's problem with her comes in. As much as he likes her he can't look at her without feeling like she's stolen something from him, which is ridiculous, Sting was never just his. And it's not like Lucy has completely taken the love of his life away from him, if that was the case Sting wouldn't be sitting opposite him at the table right now, showing him such friendly concern that makes Rogue want to scream.

But of course Rogue couldn't say any of his thoughts, so he shrugs, waving Sting's concern away with a gesture of his hand and saying that he's simply stressed due to their exams coming up.

Sting looks at him for a moment longer before returning the shrug and turning all his attention to Lucy, who giggles at his plans to take her on a date that night. It wasn't long ago that Sting would have never let Rogue get away with such vagueness as he did just now. He would have pestered him, kept annoying him until he had no choice but to tell Sting what was on his mind.

It's interesting how things change. Rogue doesn't like it one bit.

For a while he just sits there, leaning back in the booth as he watches Sting and Lucy converse, not once since that moment acknowledging his existence. When he grows tired of being ignored he stands up abruptly.

"I'm going to go home," he picks his bag up from the booth next to him, slinging it over his shoulder, "I'll see you guys later," walking away from the table

"Bye Rogue," he hears Lucy shout after him, he continues walking to the exit hearing them talking about something and just as he's about to step out of the café he feels someone grab hold of his hand.

He turns his head slightly, knowing who it is from the warmth radiating through his body. "Sting?"

Sting tugs him outside the café, trapping Rogue between the wall and himself, "Seriously, what's wrong Rogue?"

He's going to start pestering him now? "What? Nothing." Rogue racks his brain for an excuse. "I just want to go home and study." He tries to smile, but knows that he is long past putting up a happy front.

"Are you mad that we weren't including you?" Sting asks, of course he knows that Rogue's upset; he just has to find out why.

"Why would I be mad?" Rogue asks, playing dumb.

"Look, Rogue I know that sometimes I can get a little wrapped up in Lucy but she's just that kind of person, you know? I just don't want you to be upset if it seems like I'm ignoring you sometimes." He stops for a second grinning. "I mean you're my best friend, and you always will be, that won't ever change. And because of that I know that I can tell you what's on my mind at least."

Sting stops again, his eyes sparkling as he stares at Rogue. Rogue leans forward slightly, half expecting Sting to reveal his love for him.

"I've never done this before, so I'm not really sure how to say it,"

Yes?

"But I think I love,"

Rogue's eyes snap open wider.

"Lucy."

Rogue's heart drops.

Sting grins down at him, "Do you think I should tell her on our date tonight?"

Rogue can't do it anymore. "I'm going home, see you Sting."

Sting stands there staring at his best friend's back, confused with his attitude.

~~.~~

It's been a week since Sting has talked to Rogue, he was pissed at him. He's been trying to think of a reason for Rogue's behaviour but so far he was drawing a blank. How could it be so hard to figure this out, he's been best friends with the guy for almost eight years now, but lately he's felt like their relationship has changed. Maybe that's his fault; since he started dating Lucy he hasn't had as much time for Rogue, but wouldn't Rogue have said something if it was bothering him that much? Sting thought they were closer than that. Even so he finds himself knocking on Rogue's front door. His mum opens it, asking Sting how he's been before telling him Rogue's up in his room.

Sting bounds up the stairs two at a time, rounds the corner and without bothering to knock, flings Rogue's bedroom door open letting it smack against the wall.

"Honey I'm home," he shouts, hoping to get a laugh out of Rogue who just leans back in his desk chair with a scowl on his face.

"Could you refrain from breaking my mother's house?"

Well okay then, someone's in a bad mood. "What's up your arse?" he asks, flopping down on Rogue's perfectly made bed, snuggling himself into the pillows.

Rogue swivels in his chair to face Sting. "Nothing."

"Well what are you doing then?" Sting moves on the bed to look at Rogue properly.

"Studying." Rogue swivels in his chair again to face his laptop.

"Are you capable of replying in a full sentence?" Sting's getting sick of this attitude; it's like how Rogue used to talk except now he's doing it out of spite instead of shyness.

"Yes." He replies, tapping away at his laptop.

Sting's had enough of this; he climbs off the bed making sure to mess it up as much as possible before striding across the room to Rogue, placing his hands tightly on the back of the chair and turning it making Rogue face him. His anger flares as Rogue stares down at his feet instead of at him.

"What is your problem?" Sting shouts at him, knuckles turning white from his grip on the chair.

"I'm trying to study," Rogue mumbles.

"Bullshit! I'm getting so sick of your attitude. Finals aren't for like another month, even you aren't that anal about school to start studying now."

Rogue doesn't say anything, Sting looks behind his head slightly to the laptop screen seeing a half completed game of solitaire open on it. He lets go of Rogue's chair, taking a step back. "You were ignoring me to play solitaire?"

Rogue looks up at him, the pain in his eyes is hard for Sting to miss but he doesn't move.

"Are you mad at me Rogue?" He asks.

Rogue thinks for a moment, is he mad at Sting? The short answer is yes, but it's not as simple as that. In fact he's madder at himself, at his own feelings than he is at anything Sting's done. But he doesn't have the heart to say any of this so he sticks with his short answer. "Yes."

Sting's eyes widen, not completely expecting that. "What? Why? Is this because I haven't been spending as much time with you since I started dating Lucy? Do you hate Lucy? I can't spend every moment of my life with you Rogue; I have other people who I love just as much. I'm sorry that you don't have as many friends as me, but that's not my fault. You need to get out there more, socialize with people."

"That isn't what this is about. This isn't about you being my only friend, but thanks for reminding me that I am socially awkward and no one wants to get to know the emo loser. I don't want more friends Sting, you are enough." Rogue shouts at him, finally cracking.

"Then what is it? Just tell me Rogue."

Rogue looks down again, "I can't, it'll ruin everything."

"It won't, just tell me."

Rogue takes a deep breath and mumbles, "I love you.

Sting takes a step closer, leaning in towards Rogue. "What was that?"

Rogue lifts his head knowing there is no way around this anymore. "I'm in love with you, Sting."


	6. Loser & Friends

**Age 20**

Rogue's decided he doesn't like to be alone. After experiencing everything he did with Sting he craves attention, no longer satisfied with his own thoughts. The thoughts that now attack him every chance they get.

 _Everything was so perfect?_

 _You had Sting, why did you have to screw everything up?_

It's been two years and Rouge's still questioning if he should have told Sting at all, things surely would have turned out different. He could go along with his life hiding his true feelings that would ultimately rip him apart, but at least he would have Sting. He would still be by his side through everything.

Best friend's forever, right? Pfft, what a fucking liar.

Quite honestly Rogue didn't expect Sting to take his confession so seriously. But he just stood there looking as if Rogue was a stranger and got out of there as soon as he could. Rogue didn't see him for a long time after that. He's not sure what to do with himself anymore. He wishes he had more friends, but they probably would have reacted the same way as Sting. He's not so sure he'd be good at the whole friends' thing anyway, Sting was an exception.

~~.~~

The university campus is huge, Rogue often finds himself lost among the buildings as he tries to find his way to his art class. Today he takes one too many wrong turns and runs into someone, his sketch book clattering to the ground. He looks up ready to mumble out an apology when his eyes meet Sting's, who's rubbing his side where Rogue had bumped into him, surrounded by his 'new friends'. Rogue wonders if any of them have even close to the relationship Sting and himself had, he hopes not. He shouldn't be so surprised to see Sting on campus, the town they live in only has one university and both of them talked about enrolling after they finished college, but he was still hoping he could just avoid him all together. Never did he think that he would run into him like this.

"Watch where you're going, loser," He sneers.

Rogue is speechless, staring at Sting with wide eyes. Sting wasn't expecting to see Rogue around here.

Sting leans closer to Rogue, intimidating him, "What are you staring at?"

Rogue manages to find his voice, "Nothing, sorry." He grabs his book off the ground and starts to walk away in the direction he hopes his class is. He hears the group talking behind him.

"Hey Sting didn't you used to be friends with him?" One of the guys asks.

"Oh don't remind me. I don't know how I managed to put up with that loser for so long," Sting replies. Rogue can clearly picture the smirk on his face as he says it.

He picks up his pace, finding himself walking back to the bus stop. He doesn't think he can handle being in class today.

~~.~~

Rogue just doesn't understand Sting's change; even all those years ago before they were friends Rogue knew that Sting was kind to everyone. He always thought that was one of the main reasons he even befriended Rogue. Rogue didn't particularly have anything going for him back then, oh who is he kidding, he still doesn't.

But still Sting's cold demeanour is something that he has never seen before, even when he was angry. He wishes they were still friends so he could help Sting through it, but that time of their lives has long since passed. Perhaps Sting is mad at him, not just because of his love confession, but because he didn't try harder to keep Sting with him. In all honesty Rogue hadn't known what to do, Sting was his only friend, and he wasn't the kind of guy to make someone do something they didn't want to do. So without so much of a fight he let Sting go.

~~.~~

It was a shock seeing Rogue again, of being near him. Sure Sting knew that they were both enrolled at the school and he had seen him around, but only from a distance, in the last two years he'd never been forced to have a confrontation with him. He didn't know how to handle it. But he knew that he had handled it wrong.

It was difficult knowing what to do with Rogue; it had been so long since he left him. But Sting was mad at him, and has been mad at him for the last two years. Not an 'I hate you' mad, more of a 'Why did you have to tell me your feelings and then make me feel things and then not do anything about it?' kind of mad. He was mad at Rogue for reverting to his old ways, how he walks around campus with his head hung low, careful to avoid eye contact with everyone. He's closed himself off again, and Sting doesn't like that. But every time he tries to make things right his stupid mouth moves without listening to his head. Like today, though Sting was trying to look half cool in front of his friends. They know he used to be friends with Rogue, and his reputation would be ruined if he was seen talking to that loser unless he was making a snide comment, which is what he continues to do.

~~.~~

Sting stands at Rogue's front door, an apology ready on his lips, and hands fidgeting at his sides. After a minute the door opens revealing Rogue wiping the sleep out of his hooded eyes, he squints trying to see the visitor better.

"Rogue," his eye's snap open at Sting's voice.

What the hell is he doing here?

"Rogue, I-," Sting starts to speak.

Rogue stares wide eyed at him for a second before managing to find a tiny bit of courage in him, he's not letting Sting do this to him again, and steps back from the doorframe slamming the door in Sting's face.

Sting didn't come around again after that.


	7. Charcoal & Wishes

**This chapter has taken a little longer to come out because I wrote the first six chapters and only half of the last two when I posted it, so for a while I've been staring at this chapter wondering what I should do with it.**

 **Anyway enjoy.**

 **This is the second last chapter.**

 **Age 22**

The city still confuses Rogue, but he's getting the hang of knowing where things are and the best type of transport to get to them.

Rogue sits now in the corner of his art studio, the wooden chair beneath him threatening to buckle under his weight. He's not sure why he chose to buy such an old second hand chair, though perhaps it had something to do with his lack of money but in truth he knows that the chair reminded him of himself. Comparing an old wooden chair to himself? Rogue must be going nuts. He assumed that the chair would break completely after one or two uses, but two years later the chair is still standing strong, and this only continued to support Rogue's first thought. Rogue has always been a soft guy, letting the opinions and feelings of other people influence him too much, but never once did he break; there have been times when he was almost to his breaking point, just like his chair, but never once did he fall over the edge, never once did he buckle. His chair is symbolic of him. At least thinking that way makes him feel somewhat better.

He's completely immersed in the sketch he's halfway through completing, a mess of charcoal strewn across the page vaguely resembling a man's face shrouded in shadow, when he heard footsteps approaching. No one should be in here; he doesn't even know anyone in this city.

"I always knew you were good, but whoa this is a nice space," Sting says, letting out a whistle as he stares up at the walls.

Rogue twists himself around in his chair quickly, his stick of charcoal dropping to the hard cement floor as he sees Sting standing just inside the entry way. Rogue feels exposed having his works so openly displayed to an outside person's eye, after watching Sting's eyes scan over them he suddenly feels that they are too personal for anyone else to see.

"H-How did you find me?" Rogue stutters out shocked.

"You think that you could just leave town without me knowing. You think you could get away without me finding you?" Rogue can see that Sting is staring right into his eyes even though he's on the other side of the room.

"You followed me?" Rogue questions.

"Haha, no you idiot. Your mother told me where you were. You know that's rather hurtful, I'm not some kind of creep you know," Sting says, pretending to look hurt.

"Oh right." Rogue replies, dropping his eyes to the floor.

"Are you disappointed about that?" Sting asks. "Being excited about someone stalking you, that sounds like some sort of fetish Rogue." He lets out a laugh.

Rouge clenches his fists. How could Sting be acting like this? "What are you doing here, Sting?"

Sting looks as though the answer was obvious. When Rouge says nothing he sighs, walking over to him. "I wanted to see you."

Rouge couldn't believe that, there was no way, not after all these years.

"Bullshit."

Sting's eyes widen. "What?"

Rogue stares back up at him, seeing his expression. "Why would I believe that?"

"Why would I lie?" Sting asks, his voice laced with hurt.

Rogue lets out a dark chuckle, "Oh I don't know, it's not like we haven't properly spoken in four years."

"Rogue," Sting tries, but his voice falls on deaf ears. Rogue simply turns away from him picking up his bit of charcoal off the ground and focusing back on his sketch.

"Can you please leave." It wasn't a question. Rogue doesn't look back over towards Sting.

Sting stands for a moment, half inclined to stay and fix things with Rogue, and the other half convincing him that what happened between them can never be fixed. So Sting turns on his heel and walks out the door, sliding it shut roughly causing the wall to shake.

He doesn't see Rogue's head fall into his hands and the silent tears that fall off his chin.

 **~~.~~**

Rouge's head is still reeling from seeing Sting again when he gets back to his apartment later that day. He goes straight into the tiny kitchen and sets about making himself a tea to calm his nerves.

What the hell was Sting doing here?

He had looked genuinely shocked when Rogue had told him to leave, but what did Sting expect him to do? How did he think he could just walk into Rogue's studio after four years of taunting and silence, and think that he could joke with Rogue? How did he think that everything could go back to normal? He couldn't deal with Sting, not anymore. Rogue's over getting his heart repeatedly broken by the man.

He'd just sat down at his tiny wooden table, big enough for all of two chairs, lifting his hot tea to his lips when he's interrupted by a hesitant knock on his front door. He sighs heavily, placing his mug back onto the table, and gets up to see who it is. He wishes for anyone other than Sting Eucliffe. He makes it to his door and for once wishes he had a peephole, then if he didn't want to see the person on the other side of the door he could pretend that he wasn't home. He reaches for the handle when the person knocks again, Rogue finds this irritating.

"Yeah yeah, hold on." He says harshly through the door.

Finally getting the chance to open the door it creaks open slowly, he braces himself for his visitor. He's not at all surprised to see Sting standing in front of him.

Rogue scoffs, "So have you graduated to full on stalker now?" Sting just looks at him. Rogue sighs heavily. "How did you find my address?"

Sting looks up at him innocently. "Your mother, -."

Rogue realises, "My mother told you. She just can't keep out of my business."

"She's just worried about you, Rogue. She said you hardly keep in contact with her anymore." Sting looks at him, worry in his blue eyes.

"And how is that any of your business. What are you even doing talking to my mother?" Rogue's getting angry; Sting and Rogue aren't friends, not anymore.

Sting continues to look at him. "I'm worried about you too."

Rogue scoffs again. "You're about four years too late to start worrying about me." Sting remains silent, knowing that Rogue's right, of course he is. "What do you want, Sting?"

"I want to apologize."

"Why are you trying to fix things now?" Rogue asks him, cautiously.

"I tried to before, don't you remember?" Sting answers.

Of course Rogue remembers, but he stays silent.

"You slammed the door in my face, Rogue," Sting continues.

"What did you expect me to do? I hadn't heard from you in two years, not counting the taunting at school. You think that I would just let you back in that easily?" Rogue has gone from sceptical to full astonished with Sting, as if he hadn't expected Rogue to react the way that he did.

"Well no, but,-," Sting starts, wanting desperately for Rogue to understand.

Rogue cuts him off almost instantly, "But what Sting? What could you have possibly say to make me forgive you?" He was getting angry again.

Sting stares at him, replying seriously. "That I'm sorry."

Rogue scoffs at that. "Yeah I figured that much out myself."

Sting steps closer to Rogue, so they're almost both standing on the same step and sucks in a steadying breath. "Look I could give you the whole story about how you freaked me out when you told me you were in love with me, how you made me feel something I had never felt before in my entire life and how that almost scared me to death. I could tell you that I was mad at you for not fighting to keep me with you even when I pushed you away, about how I was mad at you for losing your back bone around me in university." Sting takes in a shaky breath and curses himself for it. "I could tell you how stupid I was to hold a grudge and ruin our friendship. I told you we would be best friends forever, and I hate myself for breaking that promise. But the whole story doesn't matter anymore, not if you can't forgive a naïve guy for all his wrong doings. None of it matters if you can't see that I've changed."

Rogue remains silent for a moment before speaking. "Did you rehearse that?"

Sting lets out an embarrassed chuckle confirming Rogue's suspicion.

Rogue stares at him, looking for any sign that he didn't mean what he said. It's not like Sting did anything horrible to him anyway, it was mostly Rogue's fault, he was the one who got carried away with his feelings. But against all his wishes, he still can't help but love the stupid man in front of him. "God you're cheesy."

Sting breaks out in a grin. "Hey if it works, it doesn't matter if it's cheesy or not."

"I didn't say that it worked," Rogue states, trying to hide his growing blush.

Sting steps towards him, pinching his cheeks. "Oh come on Roguie, you're blushing."

Rogue pushes him off. "I told you not to call me that."


	8. Apologies & Salt

**Sorry guys, I had forgotten that I'd downloaded Tokyo Ghoul ages ago and I decided now was a good time to watch it, so I kind of got caught up in that for a few days. Am I the only one who gets annoyed by voice actors not changing their voices from anime to anime. I mean I'm loving Ayato (I have a problem with liking the asshole characters) and I'm looking at Ayato and it's lovely, but all I'm hearing is Natsu Dragneel and it is frustrating.. ugh.**

 **Anyway, I lied, this is in fact not actually the last chapter. Well it kind of is but I've decided to split this chapter into two (so one being this one and the other serving as a kind of Epilogue of sorts to round up this story, that should be up tomorrow), so both of them will be taking place while Sting and Rogue are 24, it's just split into two days.**

 **So please enjoy (:**

 **Age 24**

"So what do you think about this one?" Rogue looks down and sees Sting sliding a newspaper clipping across the table in front of him. He reads over the words on the newspaper and chuckles softly to himself, before his eyes drift back to the book he was previously engrossed in.

"Is this your way of asking me to move in with you?" Rogue asks, not looking over at Sting.

"Well I just thought since I'm always at yours anyway -," Sting trails off, looking anywhere but at Rogue.

"How are we going to afford it?" He asks Sting who is now sitting forward in his chair anxiously waiting for Rogue's response.

"With money, duh," Sting states, leaning back in his chair as if it was the most obvious thing in the world.

"With whose money? Neither of us have jobs that pay high enough for that." Rogue flicks his eyes over to Sting before staring back down at the advertisement, studying it closer. "And why do we need three bedrooms and two bathrooms?"

Sting looks down into his coffee mug. "Well we don't but I just thought it looked nice."

"It does look nice there's no doubt about that, we just can't afford it Sting," Rogue says, his eyes soft as he looks over at the blonde man. "Perhaps in a few years when we have more money saved, then we'll see." He smiles softly; making sure Sting knows that he's not saying no, just not now.

"Yeah I guess you're right," Sting takes a final sip from his coffee and walks over to the sink putting it in and grabbing his jacket off the bench. He walks back over to Rogue still sitting at the table and gives him a chaste kiss on the cheek. "I've got to head to work, see you tonight."

"Have a good day," Rogue says, as he watches Sting's back walk out the door.

~~.~~

Sting just wanted to do something nice for Rogue. It's been tough for him the last few months; he's had to focus a lot less on his art in order for him to be able to afford his rent. Sting knows just how much the work load is taking out of Rogue; he's not made to sit behind a desk staring at a computer screen for nine hours a day.

Sting sits in a café on his lunch break holding his black coffee tightly in his hands trying to keep them warm against the cold day. A newspaper sits on the table in front of him open to the home advisements. After Rogue's words this morning he skips over anything that is anywhere near the size and price of the one he brought up this morning. He flips through the pages lazily, taking small sips for him mug every now and then when he spots it.

That's it. That's the one.

~~.~~

It's a week later and Sting never again mentioned anything about apartments. Rogue wasn't sure if the guy was hurt because he shut the idea down, but it wasn't like that, getting an apartment together right now especially one like Sting had found, it was just impossible. It's not like he doesn't want to move in with Sting, he wants nothing more, but their current financial position makes it unrealistic. Rogue wants Sting to know that.

It's times like this when Rogue wishes he was a better cook. Wishes he could make a nice meal for Sting as a way of apologizing. As it stands now Rogue stares down at the ingredients laid out before him with not even the slightest clue of what to make. Sting would say he's happy with anything but Rogue wants to make something special. Rogue glances up at the clock hanging on the wall realising Sting will be here in just over an hour so he quickly gets to work.

~~.~~

There was something off with Rogue's apartment when Sting steps inside; he's immediately hit with the aroma of cooking.

Rogue doesn't cook.

In fact Rogue is a terrible cook.

Sting moves further cautiously into Rogue's apartment, he rounds the corner to Rogue's kitchen and is shocked by what he sees. Rogue stands at the kitchen bench which is covered by more ingredients than he thinks Rogue will ever need. He doesn't seem to notice his presence.

"Rogue, what are you doing?" Sting speaks up, hoping he doesn't startle him.

Rogue doesn't turn around. "Oh Sting, go sit at the table, I'll be over in a minute."

Sting raises his eyebrow questionably, though Rogue can't see it. He sighs quietly still worried about what the man's up to, but walks over to the table nonetheless. The table is set nicely, two plates lined with knives and forks and tall glasses of water, Sting can't think of a time when the table hasn't been littered with takeout boxes when they've had dinner together. He sits down and waits patiently for Rogue to join him.

A few minutes later Rogue walks in carrying two large steaming bowls, his hands covered by the heatproof mitts Sting had brought him for his birthday a year ago. He thinks this is the first time they've left the safety of the cupboard. Rogue sets the bowls on the table between them carefully and sits down.

"So-," Sting stares down into the bowls questionably. "What's all this about?"

Rogue looksup at him, "Do I need a reason to cook for you?"

Sting decides it's better not to answer that, instead he studies the contents in the bowls. One holds a white chunky substance that he assumes is supposed to be rice. The other looks like a kind of sauce with even bigger chucks, Sting is terrified.

"So ah, what did you cook?" He asks, looking up at Rogue who's studying his movements. Sting hopes he doesn't pick up on his nervousness.

"It's satay chicken and white rice." Rogue states, as if the answer was obvious.

Sting glances back down into the bowls before looking at Rogue. He gulps, "Why is the satay grey?"

"I don't know, ask the people who created the recipe." Rogue says, still staring at Sting.

"Okay, well how about we eat then. It, ah it looks good," Sting manages to stutter out. He's not looking forward to this.

He picks up the spoon in the rice bowl and helps himself to a decent serving; the rice is even clumpier now that it sits on Sting's plate. He then helps himself to the grey chicken, dumping it onto the rice. Rogue never takes his eyes off of him until Sting hands him the so he can get himself some.

Sting stares down at his full plate not exactly sure if he wants to put something that Rogue cooked unsupervised, into his body. But Rogue cooked this for him, so he has to at least try some. He looks up at Rogue and smiles, the man returns it.

"Thank you, Rogue," He says, taking a deep steadying breath in he lifts a spoonful of the grey chunky slop into his mouth. His eyes widen as his tastebuds are attacked by salt.

"Is it okay?" Rogue asks him from across the table, as Sting swallows the spoonful down.

"Oh it's fine, just a little salty," Sting replies, taking a large sip of his water.

Rogue looks confused. "Salty? What? There's no salt in this Sting. It's supposed to be sweet."

Rogue looks down at his own plate deciding whether he should taste it himself or not. He decides to, lifting a spoonful to his mouth and chews. Immediately his own tastebuds are overwhelmed by salt, he chews and swallows quickly in an attempt to get rid of the vile taste.

"Did you follow the steps?" Sting asks looking at Rogue with a slightly amused expression.

"I followed it all word for word. I don't understand what happened," Rogue sits there, a shocked look on his face as he tries to determine what went wrong.

Sting gets up from the table and walks into the kitchen, his eyes scan over the ingredients on the bench that Rogue has yet to clean up. His eyes land on a certain white packet. He turns it around; it reads SALT in big black letters across the middle. Sting glances around spotting the recipe still sitting on the bench, he reads over it quickly before chuckling to himself seeing were Rogue went wrong. He walks back into the other room with a large grin on his face; Rogue is still sitting looking at the food as if it will tell him what he did wrong. Sting walks up behind him and leans down to whisper in his ear.

"You put salt instead of sugar in it babe."

Rogue twists around looking at Sting with a horrified expression. "Holy shit, there's half a cup of salt in this."

Sting can no longer contain his laughter as he grabs his stomach and doubles over letting his voice fill the room. Rogue stares at him wondering what he can do to fix this; he can't believe he screwed this up. "Sting I'm so sorry."

Sting straightens up to look at him, small chuckles still escaping his lips. "Why did you do this?"

Rogue looks at him, hoping everything will still be okay. "I just wanted to do something nice for you."

"Well if you wanted to do something nice, then you shouldn't have cooked." Sting says, laughing again.

"I wanted to apologise for upsetting you." Rogue says, eyes drifting down to look at his lap.

Sting stops laughing immediately, he takes a step over to Rogue and kneels down in front of him. "Upsetting me? What?"

"You never brought up the apartment again after I shot down the idea the first time." Rogue says sadly, still looking at his lap.

"Rogue what are you talking about? I'm not upset." Sting says, grabbing hold of one of Rouge's hands gently.

"You're not?" Rogue asks shocked, lifting his head up to look at Sting.

"Of course not. I understand why you said no. We don't have the money for it."

"Well now I just feel stupid." Sting stares at him, wondering what he means. "I thought when I said no you took it to mean that I didn't want to move in with you, which is in no way true. I did this because I wanted to make it up to you."

Sting pulls Rogue into a hug, neither of them caring about how awkward it was from this angle. "I was never mad at you, Roguie. You can be so dramatic sometimes."

Rogue chuckles as he holds Sting, glad that everything is still fine between them.

"Do you think we can order some food, I'm starving?" Sting asks after a moment.

Rogue scoffs, pushing Sting away from him. "Way to ruin the mood, idiot." He walks into the kitchen to get his phone. Leaving Sting sitting on the floor with a grin stretched across his face.

When Rogue comes back into the room having ordered their food he notices Sting staring at him intently. "What?"

"I'm taking you somewhere tomorrow." He answers.

"Ah okay," Rogue says taking his seat again, he isn't sure if he should be worried due to Sting's sudden seriousness. But he pushes it to the back of his mind when Sting sits there once again grinning like an idiot.


	9. Bricks & Tears

**I really shouldn't say when I'm going to update my stories, because I always lie..**

 **This is officially the last chapter, and I want to thank everyone who took the time to read it, give it a kudos and review, it does mean a lot.**

 **This chapter is also not at all how I wanted it to be, in the end I rushed it, and I'm still not sure if I'm okay with it as it is, but what can you do.**

 **Age 24**

The next morning Rogue feels a weight pressing down against his hips. He tries to turn still in his sleepy daze figuring it's just Sting's stupid arm invading his side of the bed again and he can just shake it off. This doesn't happen. In fact the weight begins to become heavier as it starts spreading to Rogue's chest. "Rogue," He hears a soft voice calling through the thick haze in his mind. The voice is actually rather soothing. He feels himself drifting off again until, "Rogue," He wishes the voice would go away now as it was beginning to become irritating.

Rogue suddenly feels a tapping against his cheek, light at first and then increasing in rhythm, until a quick slap sends vibrations through Rogue's skull.

"Wha-, fuck, stop would you," Rouge mumbles, still half asleep trying to push the hand away from him.

"Come on get up, I made coffee," Sting says, knowing the promise of coffee will get Rogue out of bed quicker.

Rogue opens his eyes noticing Sting is already dressed in black skinny jeans and a dark blue sweater, as he sits straddling him on the bed. "How are you already up?"

"Today's a big day." Is all he says before pushing himself off Rogue and flinging the covers off of the man previously underneath him. Rogue reaches for the blanket quickly in order to cover his half naked body in vain as Sting pulls it further away. "Come on, Roguie just get up. I've got something planned for today."

Rogue mumbles a, "fine," as he moves to sit on the edge of the bed. "Where's my coffee?"

Sting smiles at him, chucking the blanket back onto the bed. "In the kitchen."

Rogue sighs, reluctantly getting off of the bed and chucking on the first thing he sees, which happens to be one of Sting's shirts. He turns around to tell Sting to stop leaving his clothes on the floor, but the blonde is nowhere to be seen. He lets out another heavier sigh and walks out of his bedroom down to the kitchen. Sting already has a cup of coffee made for Rogue just the way he likes it sitting on the table when he enters, Rogue rubs the sleep from his eyes.

"Aren't you a delight this morning," Sting says smirking as he leans against the kitchen bench, and takes a sip of his own coffee.

Rogue looks at him through tired eyes, "There's a better way to wake people up, you know?"

Sting lets out a laugh, "Yeah, but you're always the one waking me up, so I didn't know which way would be the most effective. But here you are, up and ready for the day."

Rogue just shoots him a glare.

Sting's expression turns serious, "Though seriously, we will have to be leaving in about ten minutes."

Rogue laughs, figuring Sting's just joking, but when Sting's expression doesn't change he asks, "What seriously? What could we possibly be doing at eight in the morning?"

Sting finally grins, finishes off his coffee and places the mug in the sink. "It's a secret."

~~.~~

They're strolling down the city streets hand in hand fifteen minutes later, Rogue insisted that he required a shower, Sting didn't like that it made them late. Through Rogue's consistent questions of 'where are they going?' and 'what are you planning?', Sting leads him to a small, hole in the wall café, and chooses a table in the back for them to sit at.

"Order whatever you want," He says, handing the café's menu over to Rogue.

Rogue's not entirely sure what Sting is planning but he decides to go along with it, cause hey they never have the time to go out for breakfast.

The waitress comes over shortly afterwards, Sting orders a black coffee and the French toast, Rogue orders the pancakes and another coffee, mumbling something under his breath about how Sting didn't allow him to enjoy his first one. Sting only grins at him.

When the waitress leaves Rogue gives the blonde a pointed look.

"What's up?" The blonde asks, feigning innocence.

Rogue sighs, he feels like he's sighing too much this morning, "What are we doing?"

"I told you, it's a surprise," Sting says, it seems to Rogue like he's taking enjoyment in tormenting him.

"Why can't you just tell me? You know I hate surprises," He's not opposed to begging.

"Not going to happen," He replies, much to Rogue's disappointment.

The waitress returns then with their coffees, and Sting immediately becomes more interested in the dark liquid.

Rogue sits there staring at Sting over the top of his coffee mug, going over all the possibilities for this sudden occurrence. Of course Sting could just be doing this because he wants to, but he's being too secretive for it to be as simple as that. Rogue contemplates asking the man again, but knowing that he'll only become even more tightly lipped, Rogue decides to keep his mouth shut.

They sit in silence for a while until their breakfast comes out. Sting is trying his best to ignore Rogue's stares, the guy shouldn't be so distrusting. There's been a few times when that pointed dark stare of Rogue's almost made Sting blurt out the surprise, but he can't do that, it would ruin everything. For now he just looks over at Rogue with a smile.

"Cheer up, Roguie. I promise you'll love this surprise."

Rogue mumbles out, "It better be worth it."

Sting only grins again at Rogue's attitude.

~~.~~

They leave the café sometime later. Rogue vaguely notices Sting taking them further into the centre of the city, but decides not to comment on it, instead taking Sting's cue to just shut up and enjoy whatever is actually happening. He tries his best.

Rogue stares at his surroundings as they walk, more focused on that than anything else. He looks forward and notices that Sting has come to a stop in front of a black wooden door nestled between a window coffee shop and an abandoned store. The door has a metal number nailed into the middle of it that reads ninety three. Rogue stares at the blonde confused. Sting doesn't say anything; instead he pulls a small key out of his pocket and walks to the door, opening it. He looks back at Rogue, his face giving nothing away.

"Well, after you," He says, gesturing Rogue inside.

Rogue gives him one last confused look before he passes Sting and walks inside. He's immediately met with cement stairs leading up to god knows where. He looks back at Sting unsure; the blonde gives him an encouraging smile, so Rogue begins making his way up the stairs. Once at the top of the stairs Rogue is stopped by yet another door, Sting pulls the same key out and opens it allowing Rogue to see inside.

He looks around the space in front of him. It's open, with multiple doors leading off somewhere else, from what Rogue can see now is a small kitchen set into the corner of the far wall, a small table with two chairs are set up just in front of it, on the other side is an old leather couch sitting in front of a television with a small wooden coffee table. The entire floor is covered in dark wood and all but one wall are made of exposed brick, the odd one out has been rendered over and left blank. Rogue walks around the room, looking at every little feature. He walks over to a door near the kitchen, it reveals a small bathroom complete with a huge tub; he closes the door again and moves onto the next one on the other side of the room. He pushes the door open and immediately sees a king sized bed sitting proudly in the middle of the room, all the walls are also brick.

He looks over his shoulder at Sting who is standing by the last door Rogue has to look through, the blonde motions him over. Rogue confused as he's ever been pushes the last door open and his jaw almost hits the floor. He's met with an almost completely empty room; the floor is decked out in the same wood as the rest of the apartment, the bricks once again exposed, and sunlight steams into the room from all directions through the wide windows that line the walls. Rogue's eyes drift over to the two bits of furniture in the room, an easel and Rogue's old wooden stool.

He looks over at Sting, "What is this?"

"You're new art studio," Sting beams down at Rogue.

"W-what?" He stutters.

"What do you think of the place, Rogue?" Sting asks, holding his arms out to gesture to the whole apartment.

"I love it," Rogue answers, not missing a beat.

"That's certainly a relief," Sting says, letting out a breath.

"But that doesn't matter Sting, we can't afford a place right now," He sadly recalls their financial situation.

"We don't have to worry about that," Sting says, looking right at Rogue.

"What do you mean?"

"This place is ours," Why is Sting grinning?

"What?" Rogue almost shouts, astonished.

"I brought it." His tone of voice makes Rogue go silent, any thought that may have been forming in his head has now vanished as he stands staring at the blonde, wide eyed.

The only word that is able to force it's self out of his agape mouth is another shocked, "What?"

"I brought it," Sting says slower, looking Rogue right in the eye so he doesn't misunderstand.

"But you don't have any money," Rogue's not liking this sick joke Sting is playing on him.

Sting only shrugs, "Granted I had a bit of help from my parents, but I'm actually quite a good saver, believe it or not."

"I just, I don't-. What did you-? How did-?" His words trample over each other as he tries to make sense of this.

"I know it's not some grand place, but when I saw it I knew it was for us. This place has character, and you'll no longer have to pay extra each month to rent out that warehouse you use as your studio, now you'll have a studio right next to your bedroom," He moves closer to Rogue. "Don't think about it too much, Roguie, this place is ours now."

"I just can't believe you did this, Sting," Rogue can feel his eyes begin to prick with tears, and he wipes his arm vigorously against his face to get rid of them.

Sting takes another step forward and envelops Rogue within his arms, holding him tightly against his chest. "Don't cry Rogue."

"I-I'm not," He sniffles against Sting's shirt, "I just can't believe you did this."

"Are you happy?" Sting pushes Rouge back slightly so he can look into his eyes. His crimson eyes are still shining and his cheeks are wet from the tears that managed to escape.

"I just can't believe I have someone as amazing as you, I'm so happy Sting," He replies, smiling up at the blonde.

"Well good, because you're stuck with me."

Sting pulls Rogue back against his chest again feeling like they hadn't done this is so long. It was in this moment that Sting was thankful for everything they had been through, even the years they spent apart due to his own stupidity, because it got them to this point.

Rogue wraps his arms tightly around Sting's waist bringing them even closer. And in this moment he's thankful for everything too.

 **I'll definitely be writing more stories with these two, they're just too cute.**

 **I'm also currently working on a Riren chaptered fic (which is half of the reason why it took me so long to write this last chapter) and that should be up in the next few weeks, so keep an eye out for that if that's what you're into.**


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